NotActuallyBatman
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<< We shall now announce the graduates of this year's Medical Excellence Program... >>
It wasn't that Gin'bilu'alelu, soon-to-be graduate of Csilla's most prestigious medical academy, didn't want to be a doctor. There was value in helping people. Rather, it was that Gin'bilu'alelu, soon-to-be graduate of Csilla's most prestigious medical academy, didn't want to help his people. Half-watching from the vid screen as his eyes kept looking to the stolen ship's gauges for signs of imminent disaster, he saw his classmates march lock-step in single file to receive their awards. It had been like this with every ceremony he had ever attended; his parents' promotional ceremonies, the graduations of friends, all the same. Unchanging. Unfeeling. If even one of the newly-minted doctors had died right there on the spot, Gin'bilu'alelu had every confidence that their fellow doctors would simply step right over them rather than break ranks. It had been like that ever since he was a boy. And it showed absolutely no signs of stopping now.
This was life in the Chiss Ascendancy. Regardless of your feelings, regardless of your future, you take your role and you follow your orders. The galaxy of possibilities was incredibly dark for a Chiss, with only a few guiding stars they were allowed to follow.
One of the gauges immediately flashed red, and the hastily-repaired vessel that had been liberated from the breaker yards listed hard to port. Grabbing the yoke, Gin'bilu'alelu had initially thought to pull hard to starboard. But there was energy going to port. Energy he could use instead of risking further damage. After taking a second to right himself and double-check his mental math, the young Chiss instead pushed into the turn, pulling up slightly. As the vessel inverted, Gin'bilu'alelu released a small sigh of relief; even if the stabilizer was shot, the vessel's artificial gravity held strong, and the Chiss barely felt the tug of natural gravity as he gently rolled the ship and righted its orientation. The Chiss had half a mind to thank the first "Corellian" he saw in the wider galaxy; even after being stripped down bolt by bolt and put back together in single-digit hours by one man desperate to flee his own personal hell, this "YT-2400" flew like a dream. Of course, having never flown before, a dream was all that Gin'bilu'alelu could compare it to. But the controls were surprisingly intuitive. They had better be, after all; Gin'bilu'alelu's father put his son to work breaking this specific ship down and analyzing its every component as part of his repeated juvenile detentions, and at this point the Chiss was convinced he knew the ship better than he knew the man who put him to work on it.
<< And to bring an end to our ceremony our parting words will be provided by - graduating with distinguished honors, - Doctor Gin'bilu'alelu... >>
The words of the proctor rang louder than the beeping of the alarm as the primary buffer panel was ripped off of the fuselage by the surging winds of Csilla's upper atmosphere, and blue fingers that had been about to throw the hyperdrive levers forward now danced tentatively on their metal balls. Honors? Distinguished honors? The Chiss was taken aback. He knew he had done well; even absent his parents' suffocating influence, he had never been one to use half-measures. But distinguished honors? As the skies parted and gave way to the darkness of space, Doctor Gin'bilu'alelu was hit by its silence as well as his own. It was rare that he was at a loss for words. After almost a decade of dedicated study and training, he had not only accomplished the goal his society had set out for him, but had done so better than anyone else in his class. Surely that had to mean something, right?
<< Doctor Gin'bilu'alelu... >>
He wanted to stop holding on the yoke and let the port list begin his descent back home. To literally crash the ceremony, hop out of the Corellian ship's burning bridge, and smile at the proctor as he received his award. To go back to a cold and unfeeling society and play his role and do his part like a good little Ascendancy boy, content with the knowledge that the delinquent did it better than the rest of them (to say nothing of the mental image of their silent, seething consternation bringing a half-smile to the Chiss's lips). Looking away from the vid screen just as the unmistakable silhouettes of his parents stood up from near the stage and left, for a moment the galaxy of possibilities seemed to have no stars to follow at all. He'd never make it back in time. He'd likely have an arrest warrant by the time he touched back down. He'd never make good on that potential, not now.
The thought of silent, seething consternation stopped being funny; all any Chiss would see of Gin'bilu'alelu now was that he'd had it all and readily squandered it, going for a joyride in a barely-spaceworthy ship from a savage civilization.
<< Doctor Gin. Bilu. Alelu! >>
A grimace. A forceful exhale. An opening of red eyes. And as he summoned what courage he had left, Gin'bilu'alelu responded with a voice nobody in that assembly hall could hear.
"You want me? Come and get me."
His fingers clamped down. His arm surged forward. His breath and heart stopped as something deep within the ship awakened, roaring to life.
And the galaxy of possibilities became positively blinding.
It wasn't that Gin'bilu'alelu, soon-to-be graduate of Csilla's most prestigious medical academy, didn't want to be a doctor. There was value in helping people. Rather, it was that Gin'bilu'alelu, soon-to-be graduate of Csilla's most prestigious medical academy, didn't want to help his people. Half-watching from the vid screen as his eyes kept looking to the stolen ship's gauges for signs of imminent disaster, he saw his classmates march lock-step in single file to receive their awards. It had been like this with every ceremony he had ever attended; his parents' promotional ceremonies, the graduations of friends, all the same. Unchanging. Unfeeling. If even one of the newly-minted doctors had died right there on the spot, Gin'bilu'alelu had every confidence that their fellow doctors would simply step right over them rather than break ranks. It had been like that ever since he was a boy. And it showed absolutely no signs of stopping now.
This was life in the Chiss Ascendancy. Regardless of your feelings, regardless of your future, you take your role and you follow your orders. The galaxy of possibilities was incredibly dark for a Chiss, with only a few guiding stars they were allowed to follow.
One of the gauges immediately flashed red, and the hastily-repaired vessel that had been liberated from the breaker yards listed hard to port. Grabbing the yoke, Gin'bilu'alelu had initially thought to pull hard to starboard. But there was energy going to port. Energy he could use instead of risking further damage. After taking a second to right himself and double-check his mental math, the young Chiss instead pushed into the turn, pulling up slightly. As the vessel inverted, Gin'bilu'alelu released a small sigh of relief; even if the stabilizer was shot, the vessel's artificial gravity held strong, and the Chiss barely felt the tug of natural gravity as he gently rolled the ship and righted its orientation. The Chiss had half a mind to thank the first "Corellian" he saw in the wider galaxy; even after being stripped down bolt by bolt and put back together in single-digit hours by one man desperate to flee his own personal hell, this "YT-2400" flew like a dream. Of course, having never flown before, a dream was all that Gin'bilu'alelu could compare it to. But the controls were surprisingly intuitive. They had better be, after all; Gin'bilu'alelu's father put his son to work breaking this specific ship down and analyzing its every component as part of his repeated juvenile detentions, and at this point the Chiss was convinced he knew the ship better than he knew the man who put him to work on it.
<< And to bring an end to our ceremony our parting words will be provided by - graduating with distinguished honors, - Doctor Gin'bilu'alelu... >>
The words of the proctor rang louder than the beeping of the alarm as the primary buffer panel was ripped off of the fuselage by the surging winds of Csilla's upper atmosphere, and blue fingers that had been about to throw the hyperdrive levers forward now danced tentatively on their metal balls. Honors? Distinguished honors? The Chiss was taken aback. He knew he had done well; even absent his parents' suffocating influence, he had never been one to use half-measures. But distinguished honors? As the skies parted and gave way to the darkness of space, Doctor Gin'bilu'alelu was hit by its silence as well as his own. It was rare that he was at a loss for words. After almost a decade of dedicated study and training, he had not only accomplished the goal his society had set out for him, but had done so better than anyone else in his class. Surely that had to mean something, right?
<< Doctor Gin'bilu'alelu... >>
He wanted to stop holding on the yoke and let the port list begin his descent back home. To literally crash the ceremony, hop out of the Corellian ship's burning bridge, and smile at the proctor as he received his award. To go back to a cold and unfeeling society and play his role and do his part like a good little Ascendancy boy, content with the knowledge that the delinquent did it better than the rest of them (to say nothing of the mental image of their silent, seething consternation bringing a half-smile to the Chiss's lips). Looking away from the vid screen just as the unmistakable silhouettes of his parents stood up from near the stage and left, for a moment the galaxy of possibilities seemed to have no stars to follow at all. He'd never make it back in time. He'd likely have an arrest warrant by the time he touched back down. He'd never make good on that potential, not now.
The thought of silent, seething consternation stopped being funny; all any Chiss would see of Gin'bilu'alelu now was that he'd had it all and readily squandered it, going for a joyride in a barely-spaceworthy ship from a savage civilization.
<< Doctor Gin. Bilu. Alelu! >>
A grimace. A forceful exhale. An opening of red eyes. And as he summoned what courage he had left, Gin'bilu'alelu responded with a voice nobody in that assembly hall could hear.
"You want me? Come and get me."
His fingers clamped down. His arm surged forward. His breath and heart stopped as something deep within the ship awakened, roaring to life.
And the galaxy of possibilities became positively blinding.